The Sister I never Had
by C. T. Torris
Summary: Liz makes a phone call. R/R please! Merry Belated Christmas and Happy New Years
1. A journey ends

She traveled across the country, on planes, and trains, and automobiles, and busses. She was tired, hungry, cold, and lonely. As much as she needed a warm bed and some food, she needed a friend.  
  
"Well, if this doesn't work, I can always sing on the street for al living," she would joke to herself often.  
  
Her wet short-cropped auburn hair clung to her head as she first walked into Community General Hospital. The air conditioning in addition with the rain made the atmosphere incredibly chilly, and she instinctively pulled her jacket closer to her. She went to a receptionist and pulled out a piece of paper.  
  
"Excuse me, ma'am. Can you tell me where I can find a," she read from the paper, "Jesse Travis?" she asked, struggling to hide her East Tennessee accent. She was not successful.  
  
"Oh, I just LOVE your accent!" the receptionist said. The red-haired girl tried to not grimace, but soon gave up the ghost.  
  
"Where can I find Jesse Travis? It's a simple question," she said, trying hard to contain the full force of her rising anger. A blond-haired man with the bluest eyes the girl had seen walked up to her.  
  
"I'm Jesse Travis. Can I help you?" he asked.  
  
"I hope so. Um-can I talk to you," she shot a look at the receptionist, "in private?"  
  
"Sure. I'm just getting off my shift." He ushered her to an empty patient room. She sat on the bed. He sat in the chair.  
  
"I am Elizabeth Danielle Travis. My biological father, I found out six months ago, is Dane Travis."  
  
"T-that's my father," Jesse said in a whisper.  
  
"I'm glad. I'm SO glad! After 3 months of traveling and dead ends and mistaken identity, I have come to the beginning of a new road. I have found my brother." She smiled for the first time in 6 months. Jesse got up and squeezed Elizabeth tightly. She began to cry--the release of her frustration from the past months-softly at first, but soon choked sobs filled the room, and not just from Liz. Jesse was crying just as hard. 


	2. The story comes out

"From what my mom has said," she told Jesse over dinner at BBQ Bob's, "she had a one night stand with our dad. Their protection failed, mom got pregnant, and she never heard from him again. When I turned seven or so, I began to question why I didn't have a father and everyone else did-she never even had a boyfriend-she said she didn't know.  
  
"I asked her for nine years, and finally 6 months ago, she finally told me. I was furious. I mean, who wouldn't be? I didn't talk to her for a week. Then she told me I had a brother-well, a half-brother, but a brother still the same. So I started to search. I didn't actually leave home 'til about three months ago. Mom didn't want me to leave, and she all but disowned me. She offered me money after I left, but only if I came home 'like a sensible girl'. Of course, I couldn't go home..."  
  
While Liz was telling her journey to Jesse, they were being watched by Mark, Amanda, and Steve.  
  
"Mark, do you know who she is?" Amanda asked.  
  
"Yeah, isn't she a bit young, even for Jesse?" Steve asked sarcastically.  
  
"I don't know who she is, but a nurse said that she saw them in one of the patient rooms hugging and crying. Steve, I don't think you need to worry too much about her age. Besides, they're coming over here, so ask him yourself," Mark said as Jesse sat down. Liz hovered to the side.  
  
"Hey guys," Jesse said. "I want you to meet someone special. Liz, this is Mark-"  
  
"Hi Liz-"  
  
"Hi-"  
  
"Steve-"  
  
"Hey Liz-"  
  
"Hi-"  
  
"and Amanda-"  
  
"Hey Liz-"  
  
"Hi-"  
  
"Guys, this is Liz, my half-sister," Jesse said, smiling. Liz was still standing when Mark told her to pull up a chair.  
  
"Thanks," She said. She was still smiling from earlier when she first met Jesse. "I'm so glad I have found my brother. And I'm glad he has friends like you guys. He calls you his family."  
  
"Then, I guess that makes you our family, "Amanda said, smiling. Smiles were contagious, because even the tough cop was smiling.  
  
"This calls for a celebration, " said Steve. "Drinks on me. What'll you have?" he asked Liz.  
  
"Diet Coke."  
  
Mark-"Water"  
  
Amanda-"Sam Adams Light"  
  
"Light beer?" Steve asked. "That's an oxymoron!"  
  
"Sam Adams Light," she said.  
  
"I'll have a Bud LIGHT," said Jesse.  
  
"Morons," Steve mumbled.  
  
"Like oxy-morons?" asked Liz.  
  
"Exactly," said Steve with a laugh. He got up to get the drinks and went behind the counter.  
  
Liz was shocked. "Won't the owner get mad? I mean, that he's back behind there?" she asked.  
  
"No, I won't get mad," said Steve, returning with the drinks.  
  
"Neither will I," said Jesse.  
  
"Awesome," she said.  
  
"So, where are you from and how old are you?" asked Mark.  
  
"I'm 16, and I'm from a small town in East Tennessee called LaFollette. About 6 months ago, I found you that I had a brother that I never met. I began to search, and 3 months ago, I had seven matches: 3 up the East Coast, one in Iowa, 2 in Denver, and one in California. When the ones in Denver weren't Jesse, I was about to give up-go home and have mom tell me she was right-but something told me the last one was going to hit the jackpot. I have hit the jackpot." She smiled at Jesse. "I just hope I can mend fences with my mother, but if I don't, I know I have a family in California. I have found a piece of myself that was lost. For so long, I have felt lonely. Yes, I have a good mom, but with it being just she and I, I got lonely when she went on trips without me, at school, everywhere. Even if I were with her. I didn't know what a friend was. What joy extended family can be. Last year, I ate Thanksgiving at my friend's house. She has 5 brothers and 2 sisters, plus 15 nieces and nephews that came over. It was a blast. The best time I've had in my life is with a big 'family'."  
  
"When was the last time you spoke with your mom?" Mark asked.  
  
"Well, I spoke to her on the phone for a few seconds yesterday. She hung up on me, like all the other times. The last time I really spoke to her was the night before I left. We screamed so loud at each other, our neighbors called the police. I went to sleep after all of the questioning, and left out at 4 in the morning. I didn't look back. Later, I found in my backpack a letter and a blank check. The letter was from mom telling me how very, very hurt she was that I was leaving her. I'm sure she's blaming herself for something. You know, 'Am I such a horrible mom for her to not stay home? Why does she need to find someone to replace me?'"  
  
"You are very wise," Steve remarked.  
  
"Yeah, but even with all of my wisdom, it still hurts," she said, her voice cracking slightly. She quickly changed the subject. "So, what is everyone's job?" she asked.  
  
"I'm a doctor. I'm head of Internal Medicine at Community General. I'm also a consultant with the police," said Mark.  
  
"I'm a pathologist and I'm an ME," Amanda said.  
  
"A medical examiner? Cool. I mean, not for the people you autopsy, but for their families. Give them a sense of closure, I suppose," Liz said.  
  
"That's one of the reasons I became a pathologist," Amanda said.  
  
"I'm a lieutenant with the LAPD. I'm in homicide," Steve said.  
  
"Let me guess. You guys solve murders. I mean, with your jobs together. It all adds up," she said, with a Cheshire grin.  
  
"Yeah," said Mark, chuckling.  
  
"So, what are you interested in doing?" Steve asked.  
  
"I was thinking about possibly becoming a doctor. Cardio-thorastic surgeon. Or maybe even neuro-surgeon. And whether I become a doctor or not, I will do something with music." "Do you sing, play an instrument, write music, or what?" asked Jesse.  
  
"All three. I've written a couple of songs. I play quite a few instruments: alto sax, bari sax, flute, clarinet, mallets, piano, organ, harmonica, Irish penny whistle, and I learned how to play a bit of guitar before I left. I also want to learn how to play oboe, bassoon, and I know it's the same instrument, just different playing style, but violin and fiddle."  
  
"Wow," Mark said.  
  
"That's what most people say," Liz said, smiling.  
  
"What about voice?" Amanda asked.  
  
"Have you heard of Charlotte Church?" Everyone's face lit up with recognition. "Cecilia Bartoli?" This time, only Mark's face lit with recognition. "I've been told I sing like both of their voices together, with a bit of Dorthy Dandridge."  
  
"The voice of an angel," said Amanda.  
  
"I suppose, but I wouldn't own it. Too much expectation. Just because someone has the voice of an angel does not mean he or she IS an angel," she said with an evil smile. "Not that I have gotten in serious trouble. Mainly a couple of protests that have gotten out of hand."  
  
"What were you protesting?" Steve asked.  
  
"Both against the Southern Baptist Convention's discriminatory views. One because the SBC won't let women be ministers, and one because they won't gays be ministers. It was at both of those protests that I learned that even though I am very close friends with Erin, one of my friends back home, that I shouldn't stand anywhere near her in a protest." She had pulled out a picture of Erin from her wallet while she was talking. "She's now in Tennessee State prison for a few assault charges. She pleaded out so she's only going to be serving eight months. She started six riots at protests. I was at three of them. The third time, I did go with her, but I stood on the other end. I learned my lesson that time," she said laughing. She yawned and stretched. "This has been a long day," she said looking at her watch. "Oh my! It's 10:30. No wonder I'm tired."  
  
"Where are you staying?" Mark asked.  
  
"I don't know. I've got to look for a place."  
  
"Well, until you do, you're welcome to stay with me and Steve," Mark said. Steve nodded in agreement.  
  
"Ok, then, I'll take you up on that offer," she said smiling. 


	3. praying and crying

After Liz got settled into the guest room at the beach house, she lay down and went to sleep almost immediately. Mark smiled as he checked up on her and heard her breathing heavily.  
  
"Hey, Dad. What are you thinking about?" asked Steve a few minutes later when Mark was still standing in the doorway of the guest room.  
  
"I'm praying. Thanking God," Mark said. Steve looked perplexed. Mark explained. "Jesse was telling me a few days ago how lonely he got sometimes. He sort of adopted a friend when he was 17. She was 7, and he would always talk to her on the bus he rode. People would tease him because he was talking to a little girl, and called him sissy, but he felt the least lonely in his life with this girl than with anyone else in his life. He calls you and Amanda his siblings, but there is this hole in him."  
  
"Who knew?" Steve asked. He certainly didn't. He looked at his dad. Steve's eyebrows furrowed at the look on Mark's face. "What's wrong?"  
  
Mark was thoughtful. "I don't know. Just-something I can't quite put my finger on."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Liz. I know she's valid. She's Jesse's sister. She was acting a bit strange tonight."  
  
"Well, she's related to Jess. What do you expect?"  
  
"Not like that. She was always pulling down her sleeves. Like she was afraid for someone to see her arms."  
  
"I think you're just paranoid."  
  
"In this case, I certainly hope so." Mark yawned. "I'm going to bed."  
  
"Ok, dad. Goodnight," said Steve, walking to his downstairs apartment. Mark went to his upstairs bedroom.  
  
The one thing they didn't count on was Liz being a light sleeper. 'Crap,' she thought to herself. 'Dammit! They're going to find out,' she thought emotionally. She sobbed herself quietly to sleep. 


	4. 15 minutes?

"Listen Mark. I think you're just being paranoid. There is probably a good reason why she kept pulling her sleeves down," said Jesse the next day in the kitchen of the beach house.  
  
"Name one," Mark challenged.  
  
"Um," Jesse said scratching his head. "She was cold," he said with a smug look on his face.  
  
"Doubt it. She drank several cokes last night, and her face was constantly flushed," Mark pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, and she had just met her brother for the first time, meeting his friends, and besides, some people are just more susceptible to emotionally induced blushing. And yesterday was emotional for all of us."  
  
"But not constantly, like she was," Mark said.  
  
"Ok, I'll sort of ask about it. Inconspicuously," he said.  
  
"Inconspicuous? You? Ha! When elephants do ballet," Mark said with a grin.  
  
"Grr," Jesse said ass he went to the coffee pot for a refill. "So, she's still asleep?"  
  
"Yes. After she settled in last night, she looked tired and pale. I'm not about to deprive her of sleep if I can help it." At that moment Liz came in the room, stretching and yawning. She was eyeing the coffee pot.  
  
"Great! Coffee!" she said as she poured herself a cup. She took a drink from it without adding sugar or cream. Jesse looked at her oddly.  
  
"What? Haven't you heard of people who drink black coffee?"  
  
"Yes, but I haven't known anyone who could stomach it. Even Steve," Jesse said.  
  
"Speaking of the devil, where is Steve?" asked Liz.  
  
"Work. Murder case he got yesterday," Mark said.  
  
"Well, are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to tap dance for it?" she asked.  
  
"You tap?" Mark asked.  
  
"SAY NO!" Jesse said quickly. Mark shot him a warning glance.  
  
"Actually, not really. My friend Casey back home took dance for most of her life, and she sort of taught me some basics, but I never had any interest in it. So... Details of the murder?" she said pleadingly.  
  
"A pianist was shot while he was at his piano practicing. A shame, because he was supposed to be playing at the symphony tomorrow," Mark said.  
  
"Have you been to the scene?" Liz asked.  
  
"No, I haven't. Do you have something in mind?" Mark asked.  
  
"It may be nothing. Think that maybe since you are a consultant with the PD you could get me in? I promise I won't touch anything."  
  
Mark looked pensive. "I don't-"  
  
"Pretty please?" she said, trying to charm the older gentleman.  
  
"Come on, Mark. She may help," Jesse said.  
  
"All right. Get ready," Mark said, conceding.  
  
"Yes!" she said as she ran off to shower and dress.  
  
"I don't know if this is a good idea," Mark said.  
  
"Sure it is. She's had musical training. Maybe she can point out something that we would've missed," Jesse said.  
  
"I guess," Mark said. He and Jesse sat in companiable silence for 15 minutes. Liz came out, ready to go. Both men were astounded.  
  
"15 minutes? Are you sure you're completely ready?" Mark asked.  
  
"I have short hair, and I don't wear makeup. Whaddya expect?" she said with a laugh.  
  
"I'm just shocked. Most females I know take hours to get ready," said Jesse.  
  
"I used to wake up thirty minutes before my bus to school came. I learned quickly to get ready fast. I really didn't want to wake up before 5:30 in the morning."  
  
"Your bus came at six in the morning?" Jesse asked, incredulously.  
  
"Yeah. I lived in the boonies. It was the only way I got to school on time. I also had to walk for about 5 minutes to get to the bus stop. Did that since I moved to that house when I was in 6th grade. I hated at first, but it wasn't so bad." She smiled. "So, ya'll ready to leave?" she asked. 


	5. Rondo alla Turka

The trio showed up at the scene thirty minutes later. Steve looked at his dad disapprovingly when he first saw Liz, but he didn't say anything. Liz walked around, her hands buried in her pockets. She went up to the black Yamaha grand piano and studied it intently.  
  
Mark went up to here. "Notice anything out of place?" Mark asked.  
  
"How was he shot?" Liz asked.  
  
"He was shot in the back of the head. The exit wound was out in the frontal lobe."  
  
She nodded. Mark noticed her eyebrows were furrowed.  
  
"The key guard must have been down when he was shot since there is no blood on the keys. There is a bit on the stand, but not in the middle." Her eyebrows furrowed a bit more. "This man was doing something that is a huge no-no. Back home, I played flute with the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra. There is a program where middle and high school students can play. Each time there was a pianist-even in practice-he or she NEVER used music. A professional pianist would not use the music a month or so before opening night. Just not supposed to happen. Even with me. I took part in several recitals, and even filled in for a visiting pianist from Austria at Symphony practice. But even with me, being 14 at the time, I was not allowed to use music. And, also, with me or any pianist, one is not supposed to play new music," she said, mostly musing, but also mostly to Mark.  
  
"I see what you mean. I wonder what this man was playing," Mark said. Steve noticed both Liz and Mark had been pointing at the piano and conversing between themselves, so he walked over to them.  
  
"What do you have?" Steve asked Mark.  
  
Liz answered, "I was just in a bit of a reverie. I've met myriad of professional pianists, and have played piano myself for many years. Out of all of the recitals and performances I have been a part of, no one is supposed to use music. It's all supposed to come from the memory. Nor was the pianist or I allowed to work on some new piece of music," she said. "When he..."  
  
"Fezzik Rodrigus," supplied Steve.  
  
"Fezzik-thanks-was shot, there was something here," she said pointing in the general vicinity of the music stand where the blood spatters were absent.  
  
"You're right. I'll have it checked out," said Steve, smiling for the first time since Liz got on the scene.  
  
"Sherlie Lockwood Holmes, at your service," she said, curtsying. Steve and Mark laughed.  
  
Jesse came over, and jokingly demanded, "All right, what's going on here?"  
  
"See that?" she asked, pointing to the same area that she pointed out to Steve and Mark.  
  
"What am I supposed to see?" he asked.  
  
"The piano's black, so you'll have to catch the light just right, but in this area right here," said, pointing again, "there is no blood, suggesting that there was a sheet music of some sort. I'd say it was two pages across, so either it was a book or one of those long pieces of sheet music folded across to take up two pages."  
  
"And...?"  
  
"You tell him," Liz told Mark.  
  
"When Liz was back in Tennessee, she took part in several productions where she met some pianists. A month or so before recitals or performances, they weren't allowed to read off of sheet music, to either work on what they were playing or on anything new."  
  
"And...?"  
  
"And I would expect a professional of his caliber to have everything memorized," Liz said.  
  
"Ok... I get it. Either this guy is an imposter, or the real...?" said Jesse  
  
"Fezzik Rodrigus," Liz said.  
  
"Fezzik Rodrigus couldn't play piano."  
  
"Yes! There may be hope for you yet!" Liz exclaimed. 


	6. It's Liz all right

After Liz told her observations to Steve, he investigated and found out 1) sure enough Liz was right, 2) the more he talked to the concert-master, the less he liked him, and 3) the more the talked to the concert-master, the more he thought he was guilty.  
  
"So, you didn't know the pianist?" Steve asked, annoyed, for the third time.  
  
"No, I did not. I knew who he was, but I didn't know him personally," Pactrick Starz said, anger bubbling up inside of him. A knock on the door prevented further questioning at that time. Steve answered the door of the interrogation room to find his father looking a little concerned.  
  
"Dad, what are you doing here?" Steve asked.  
  
"Can I talk to you a minute?" Mark asked.  
  
"Yeah," said Steve. He led his dad to an empty interrogation room. Mark sat down as Steve closed the door.  
  
"I did some research on the internet," Mark said, producing some papers from his jacket pocket.  
  
"'Rodrigus and Starz announce split.' Hmmm... Thanks dad," Steve said as he went to the door, but he saw the parental worry on his dad's face.  
  
"Something wrong?" Steve asked.  
  
"No-yes." Mark sighed. "I didn't know. The more I watch Liz, the more I'm worried," he finally admitted.  
  
"I'm sure it's nothing, but what do you have in mind?" Steve asked, sitting down at the table across from his dad.  
  
"She's hiding something. She's always wearing pants and long sleeves, even though it is 90 degrees outside. And this afternoon, she was outside on the deck with her sleeves pushed up, but as soon as I cam outside, she pulled them down very quickly. There is something, on her arms especially, she doesn't want anyone to see," Mark said.  
  
"Drug abuse?" Steve asked.  
  
"I don't think so. I haven't seen any symptoms or evidence of that." Mark sighed as he pulled out some more papers from his jacket pocket and silently handed them to Steve.  
  
"'Self-mutilation. Also know as self-abuse, self-inflicted injury, but self-injury is the most, widely used and most popular term,'" Steve read out loud. "You don't think-"  
  
"Skip on down to the signs," Mark said. "'Cuts or scars on arms and legs, Hiding cuts or scars by wearing long sleeved shirts or pants, even in hot weather, Making poor excuses about how the injuries happened," Steve read on for a few minutes and sighed. "It's Liz all right. So what's going to be done?" he asked. 


	7. Hypoglycemia

*Sorry about the hiatus. I've been VERY busy with school. One of the clubs I belong to is doing a HUGE fundraiser, and I've been working hard with that. Here's chapter 7. Enjoy, and PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!!! Review!  
  
  
  
After Mark's tip about Fezzik and Starz's relationship, Steve confronted Pactrick, and he confessed that he killed his ex-lover after he found him playing from music.  
  
"I was like, 'how could you? You know better!'. I was so angry, and I-I snapped. I went to his bedroom, got his gun, and while he was looking at the music-the key guard was down-, I shot him. I-I'm so sorry," he said, crying.  
  
Steve was so pleased that this case was cracked so easily, thanks to the help of Liz and Mark, he went directly to the hospital after he did the rest of his paperwork to see both Liz and his dad to deliver the news in person.  
  
"Liz, dad, I just want to thank you so much for your help. Pactrick confessed a few hours ago," he said.  
  
"I was nothing. Just glad to help," Liz said.  
  
Mark looked at Liz and frowned. "Liz, you feel OK?" She was pale  
  
"Just tired," she said with a half-yawn.  
  
"I have to go back to the station. I'll se you this afternoon," Steve said.  
  
"Ok Steve. Thanks for the update," Liz said.  
  
"Take care, son," Mark said as Steve walked to the elevator. He turned to find Liz slumped in a chair. Her head was hanged down, cradled on her clasped hangs. "Are you OK?" Mark asked, concerned.  
  
"Just all of a sudden got a bit dizzy. Could you get me some grape juice? I-I don't h-have t-true hypoglycemia, b-but if I don't eat, I get s-sick," she said, fully shaking now.  
  
"I'll be right back with your juice," Mark said as he hurried off. While he was getting Liz juice, Jesse came by and saw her in the chair, pale as a ghost.  
  
"What's wrong, Liz?" Jesse asked.  
  
"J-just low b-blood s-sugar," she said. "M-mark's getting j-juice." Jesse grabbed her cold clammy hands and sat silently with her until Mark returned with a couple of boxes of grape juice. She quickly gulped it down and within a few minutes, the color was returning to her ghostly pale face and she wasn't shaking as much.  
  
She smiled wanly at both men. "Thanks," she said quietly.  
  
"I'd feel a lot better if I looked you over," Mark said.  
  
"So would I," Jesse said.  
  
"I'm fine, but I would like to check my glucose level," she said.  
  
"But-" Jesse started.  
  
Liz cut him off with a wave of the hand. "I'm fine. I just got caught up in the excitement of everything, and forgot to eat," she said, trying to convince Jesse and Mark.  
  
"Come with me for a glucose monitor. If your level is below 80, I'm checking you over," Mark said.  
  
Liz finally conceded. "Ok, I guess," she mumbled, a bit sullen. She got up and followed Mark to an empty exam room. He handed her a glucose tester, and Liz quickly tested herself, as if she had done it a thousand times.  
  
"It's 90," she said with a sigh of relief. "I'm OK."  
  
Mark silently cursed under his breath. "I'd still like to look you over," he reiterated.  
  
"I'm fine. Thanks for your concern. I'm going to the cafeteria if you need me," she said as she left the room. Jesse came in, and saw the clearly etched lines of worry on Mark's face.  
  
"What's wrong?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Liz," Mark said.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Jesse asked.  
  
"I really don't know for sure. I was researching on the net a few hours ago, and came across this," mark said, pulling the second set of papers out of his pocket he showed Steve earlier. He handed them to Jesse who silently read them.  
  
"You don't think-" Jesse said.  
  
"I don't know what to think right now," Mark said.  
  
"This is certainly something to look after," Jesse said. "It is," Mark said. He sighed heavily.  
  
"What's on your mind, Mark?" Jesse asked.  
  
"Sometimes... Sometimes I think I'm cursed with this gift to see the 'evidence' and postulate an answer. Sometimes, I wish two and two made five. Especially now," he said with a sigh.  
  
"I do too. But you know, now that we know, thanks to you, we can help her. And I think, as much as she wants her secret to stay a secret, she wants to be found out and be helped. We just have to be there when she takes the first step," Jesse said, placing a comforting hand on his mentor's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. I just hate feeling so helpless though," Mark said.  
  
"Where is she," Jesse asked.  
  
"She said she was going to the cafeteria," Mark said.  
  
Jesse grinned. "She eats about as much as I do."  
  
"Uh oh," Mark said, laughing.  
  
"She's also a vegetarian. I couldn't do that, but she's been one for over three years."  
  
Mark let out a low whistle. "That's a long time," he remarked.  
  
"That it is. Have you heard of Mandy Patinkin?"  
  
"I think so. Wasn't he in Dick Tracy?" Mark asked.  
  
"Yes. She has the biggest crush on him, though he is 50. She hopes to sing with him very soon."  
  
"I believe I heard something about him coming to LA for a few days sometime next month. If she's here, I could buy tickets to see him."  
  
"She's probably pass out," Jesse said, laughing.  
  
"I'd say so," Mark said, smiling.  
  
Jesse looked uncomfortable for a few minutes. "I-I guess I'd better talk to her," he said.  
  
"Do you want me to go with you?" Mark asked.  
  
"No. I want to do this by myself," Jesse said, resolutely. "Is there anything I can do?"  
  
"Pray," Jesse said as he got up and went to the cafeteria. 


	8. Questions

***Ok, guys... I bet you're wondering where I've been. I've been fighting off a bit of a stomach virus, ACT, A HUGE 10 page research paper, and writer's block. Plus the fundraiser has been taking up most of my time... staying 'til 9pm at school.... But I'm back, and maybe I'll write more than a chapter this time.***  
  
  
  
Liz was in the cafeteria nursing a cup of nearly undigestible black coffee. She looked up and smiled at Jesse as he entered the cafeteria.  
  
"Hey Liz," he said, as he sat down a few minutes later with his own cup of coffee.  
  
"Hey Jess," she said, staring at the bottom of her cup of coffee as if it were the most interesting in the world.  
  
"Liz, can I ask you a question?" Jesse asked.  
  
"You may ask," she said with a soft chuckle.  
  
"Ok. Why do you always wear long sleeves?" Jesse asked. He waited in the long unbearable silence for her to say something-anything. Liz screaming and throwing things around would be better than the silence. Liz picked up her cup and swooshed the black liquid around before she even tried to explain.  
  
"There have been a lot of unpleasant happenings in my life. Right now, I'd rather not discuss them. I'd-I...I'd," she started. She took a deep breath. Liz looked at Jesse for the first time since he sat down. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"I think you're hiding something that could potentially be very detrimental to you. Something that no one understands or even tries to understand."  
  
Liz sat quietly as she digested this. "You're right. No one understands," she said, sotto voce.  
  
"I want to try to understand," Jesse said as he put his hand on her arm. Liz pulled away slightly. "Don't push me away," Jesse pleaded quietly.  
  
"Liz looked like she was going to cry, but she stood up and said, "Excuse me, I have to try to call my mom." She walked out of the cafeteria, Jesse watching her intently. 


	9. Operator What city, Please?

****Sorry guys. With Christmas and school break, I've been swamped with watching my niece and nephew. Also, I have gotten a pretty bad respiratory infection, which is setting off my asthma, which is making me miserable. I'm back! For now, at least.****  
  
  
  
  
  
*Come on, mom, answer the phone,* Liz thought over and over again to herself as she played with the cord on the pay phone across the hall from the path lab.  
  
"Danners residence. This is Maureen," answered after 10 rings.  
  
"Mom. I-it's Liz," Liz said in a strained voice. "Please don't hang up on me."  
  
"Liz, where are you?" You've worried me sick! Did you know that I've been physically sick because of your free ranging way? Are you out of Denver yet? Did you finally grow a head? Are you coming home?..."  
  
"Mom!" she yelled, trying to get a word in edge wise. "Mom. I'm in LA. I've found the right person. I've found my brother. He's a doctor," Liz said.  
  
"Oh, a doctor, eh? Better, I guess, than the low life scum in Iowa. So when are you coming home?" Maureen demanded.  
  
"Well-I-well-I don't know. Jesse and I have so much to catch up on, and I need to stay away from the house longer," Liz said, her voice getting quieter at the end.  
  
"Oh, so East Tennessee isn't good enough for you? You're too good for us back home?"  
  
"No, I didn't say that!"  
  
"Yes, you did! Don't deny it. You're too proud-"  
  
"Mom-"  
  
"Don't interrupt me! You're an indignant-"  
  
"Mom. If you're going to talk like this, I'm hanging up," Liz said, her voice cracking.  
  
"Oh, You're going to hang up on your own mother! HOW DARE-"  
  
Liz slammed the receiver down and sagged against the wall. Amanda had listened to Liz's end of the conversation and rushed out of her office to Liz when she heard the phone slam down. She gently led Liz to the path lab. Once inside, Liz began to bawl.  
  
"God! She *sniff* is so im*sniff*possible! I can't*sniff*-" Liz got out before ragged sobs racked her body.  
  
Amanda held her and murmured, "Shhh, sweetie. It's all going to work out. It's ok." Amanda held her tightly until Liz fell asleep. Amanda gently maneuvered Liz into a chair and covered her with a sheet. Her pager went off. It was Mark's cell phone. Amanda called her mentor right away.  
  
"Hey Mark," she said.  
  
"Hey Amanda. You haven't seen Liz, have you?"  
  
"Yes. She's here in the path lab, sleeping. She tried to call her mom, they exchanged words, and she's in here."  
  
"Ok. Let her sleep for the time being, and then I'll take her to the beach house," Mark said, fatigue starting to show in his voice.  
  
"Mark, is everything alright?" Amanda asked.  
  
"I have something I need to discuss with you, but it can wait," he said.  
  
"Ok, Mark. I'll call you when she wakes up," Amanda said as she hung up the phone. 


	10. hypobaric chamber

***Sorry guys.... I have been bogged down since Christmas on. My family came in, and I had to make the nice appearance everywhere. And then hell...er, um, school started back up again, and I have to take 3 semester finals this week. I've already done one, and made a 92, the second highest score out of all of the classes!!!! But anyways, here we go again with Liz***  
  
  
  
  
  
Liz woke up, momentarily confused, but the events leading up to her ending up in the path lab came back to her after a few seconds. She stood up, stretched and folded the sheet that had covered her. She looked around and saw Amanda at her desk, working. Amanda looked up at the movement and smiled.  
  
"Hey sleeping beauty," she said, laughing.  
  
"Hey Amanda. How long have I been asleep?" Liz asked.  
  
"Oh, about 2 hours."  
  
"Which explains the crick in my neck," she said, massaging at her neck.  
  
"I told Mark I'd call him when you woke up. He's going to take you back to the beach house."  
  
"Ok. Oh, what are you working on?"  
  
"Autopsy report," she said as she gestured to the table in the middle of the room. A sheet covered the prone form of a body.  
  
"May I?" Liz asked.  
  
"Sure, I guess," Amanda said as she pulled the sheet to the man's waist.  
  
"Liz noticed the redness of this cheeks. "Carbon Monoxide poisoning?"  
  
"Yeah! How did you know?"  
  
"I had a bad case last year. A bird decided to build a next in the chimney. My face was very, very red. The worst part was the hypobaric chamber. I absolutely bABHOREb small spaced," Liz said, shuddering at the memory. She covered the deceased up as Amanda called Mark.  
  
"Yeah, she's up...Path Lab...Ok, I'll see you in a few...bye," she said as she hung up the phone. "Mark's on his way." They sat in companiable silence for a few minutes until mark roller-skated into the path lab. Mark came in as Liz burst out laughing.  
  
"That i laugh i is b SO b cool," she said, pointing to the skates.  
  
"It saves time," Mark said, chuckling.  
  
"Ingenious," she said, seriously at first, but then she burst out laughing again.  
  
Mark sat down and changed out of his skates into a pair of tennis shoes. "You ready?" he asked Liz.  
  
"Yeah. Let's go," she said. 


End file.
